Resurrection: A Dark High School Romance (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #1)(6)

Galen chugs straight from a bottle of bourbon on the table, drinking it like it’s soda. Saint drops into a seat across the table from his cousin, pulling me down on his lap. I remove my school jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair.

Saint zeros in on my chest, smacking his lips and smirking. “Nice rack.” He palms my breasts through my white shirt, and my nipples instantly pebble. He pulls on my tits, roughly kneading them through my clothing, until my nipples are so hard they’re straining against my flimsy lace bra and the thin material of my shirt.

Theo kicks his feet up on the table, lighting a blunt and bringing it to his lips. Galen scowls, his gaze riveted to Saint’s hands, and it’s almost comical. Snatching my vodka bottle, I knock back a few mouthfuls before swiveling on Saint’s lap until I’m straddling him. His hands drop to my waist, and he quirks a brow, waiting for me to make the next move.

I put the bottle on the table and bend down, boldly pressing my mouth to Saint’s. His lips instantly part, and I pass some of the vodka from my mouth to his. His eyes pierce mine as we swallow, our mouths still lined up, and I could get lost in those dangerous icy depths if I’m not careful.

He swoops in before I can retract, claiming my lips in a searing-hot kiss that curls my toes. Although, calling it a kiss isn’t doing it justice, because it’s more like a claiming.

Saint devours my mouth. His tongue swirling around mine. His lips punishing as he takes what he wants with no apology. And I return his ardor, pressing bruising kisses against his lips as my hands sweep over the velvety-soft hair on his head. His hands slide under my uniform skirt, his large palms flattening against the bare cheeks of my ass. He’s already hard underneath me, and I grind against him, desperate to feel him inside me. To lose myself before my head starts reminding me my world has upended.

“I thought we were waiting for Caz.”

Saint rips his mouth from mine, fixing an arrogant look over my shoulder at his cousin. “This is me waiting.” He squeezes my ass cheeks, and I bite down on my lower lip to stifle a moan. “I’m getting our girl warmed up.”

I place my hands on his shoulder and lean down, licking a path up the side of his neck and along his bristly jawline.

A deep rumble erupts from his chest. “Girl, you’ve got balls.” He removes his hands from my butt, holding my face tight, examining me with clear amusement.

“Her name is Harlow.” Theo’s voice is clipped, but none of us miss the soft edge.

Saint keeps a hold of my face as he turns his attention to his friend. “Something you want to tell me, dude?”

“Everyone knows who Harlow Westbrook is. She’s—”

I yank out of Saint’s grip, twisting around so I’m facing Theo, and he stops speaking mid-sentence. “You really don’t want to go there.” My eyes dare him to test me.

“Interesting.” Saint holds my hips, dragging my butt back and forth across his crotch. “But it can wait. I’m horny as fuck.” He lifts me off him, temporarily setting my feet on the ground.

In a lightning-fast move, he swipes the contents of the table away with a sweep of his hand. I predict the move at the last second, snatching my vodka before it becomes a casualty. Galen’s reactions are equally fast, and he rescues his bourbon before it joins the cards, chips, money, and a few bottles of beer on the floor. Saint lifts me again, placing me on the edge of the table. “Lie back.” His eyes blaze with lust, and my panties are fucking drenched, yet he’s barely touched me.

Galen curses, and Theo gulps, as I do what I’m told. I lie back and my long, dark hair fans out around me on the table.

“Grab her hands,” Saint commands.

Galen fumes for a couple seconds, swigging more bourbon before sending it flying across the room. The bottle smacks into a wall, shattering on impact.

“You done?” Saint levels his cousin with a lethal look.

“Not nearly.” Galen’s gnarly tone sends shivers racing up my spine. He grabs my hands, yanking them up over my head until it feels like they’re being wrenched from my arm sockets.

Saint parts my thighs, gliding his hands up my bare flesh as the door opens and Caz joins our little party. He locks the door with an audible click, stomping toward us in heavy boots. “That handled?” Saint asks, his hands stalling halfway up my thighs.

“We tossed the trash.” I can hear the smirk in Caz’s tone. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, leaning over me and cupping one side of my face.

I stare at him as Saint resumes his upward journey on my thighs. Cool air brushes across my overheated flesh as Saint lifts my skirt. “What’s with the uniform?” he asks.

“Didn’t have time to change,” I murmur, my gaze locked on Caz’s as he moves his face down closer to mine.

I got the call when I was in school, and Mom sent a car to collect me. Lincoln, my dad’s assistant, drove my SUV home. After a couple hours with the police, the coroner, and the director of the funeral home, I just needed out. Mom retreated to her bedroom with a bottle of wine and some Valium, and I grabbed my vodka and hightailed it out of there. I didn’t even realize I was still in my uniform until that bitch Rita Knight made me aware of it.

“You look hot,” Saint says, cupping my pussy through my thong. “And I’ve always wanted to fuck a Lowell Academy princess.”